“You’re the best part of me.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped backstage, shoulders dropping as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. His first TV interview as a solo artist was complete, and it felt so good. He had been incredibly nervous - he was so used to having three other people to support him through events like these, so it was a shock to the system having to do it entirely by himself.
A flurry of arms and legs wrapped themselves around him, taking him by surprise, and his own arms wrapping around the familiar figure that had just attached itself to him. “You did so good,” she praised, legs unwrapped from around his waist as she loosened her tight squeeze. “So proud of you,” she added, kissing him gently. Harry beamed, his heart swelling at the sound of her praise. His arms tightened around her waist, face nuzzling into her neck as he breathed in her scent. “Thankyou,” he mumbled, eyes flickering shut. “So proud,” she repeated, her fingers finding his head, giving his scalp a light massage.
A few hours later and the pair were curled up in bed under their warm duvet, faces close and hands all over each other as they talked. This was almost tradition for them now. They would come home, and when it was time for bed they would climb into bed together, bodies close, and just talk. Talk about anything and everything. Sometimes they would share little secrets, or tell stories from their childhoods. Sometimes they would debate the quality of the movie they just watched, or whether fried, poached, or scrambled eggs were best. And sometimes, they would just lie and watch each other, kissing every so often, hands losing themselves in each other under privacy of the covers.
There was a comfortable lull in their conversation and Harry yawned, a hand moving to play with the hair of the beautiful woman lying opposite him. “Harry,” she murmured, leaning into his touch. “Mm?” he hummed. “What you said in the interview… Y’know, about me… Was that… I mean… Did you mean that?” she asked, her voice soft and curious, eyes bright as they met his gaze.
“So, Harry. Tell us about this wonderful girl of yours. Is it love?” the presenter asked, giving Harry a full, bright smile. Harry smiled back at her, almost visibly relaxing at the mention of their relationship. He paused a moment before answering. “There’s so much t’tell,” he started. “T’be honest, we’re pretty private people. Bu’, I will tell yeh this. It’s the truest, swee’est love I’ve ever known. She makes me a better person, an’ I know how fuckin’ cliche tha’ is,” he chuckled, shaking his head as a slight flush appeared on his cheeks. “Bu’ it’s true. Love her teh pieces. She’s… You know wha’, she’s the bes’ par’ of me,” he finished, grinning at the presenter.
Harry smiled at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he remembered what he’d said. “I mean’ every word. Yeh really are, m’love. The bes’ par’ of me,” he smiled, and she smiled back, biting back tears. “That’s the most precious thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered, leaning in to press a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. Harry hummed happily against her mouth, shuffling even closer, their legs slotting together. “Love you,” she murmured against him. “Love yeh more,” he answered, wrapping her up in his arms.